


22

by x_filth_x



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, F/M, Female Reader, I fixed the tags weeee, Minor Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Shaving, Test Subject!Reader, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_filth_x/pseuds/x_filth_x
Summary: You've been a test subject for some time at the hands of a mysterious scientist who takes pleasure in the suffering of others.After the latest experiment the outcome was something neither of you could have predicted.





	22

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep it as fucked up/villainous as possible so if you wanted more of a UwU experience with gas daddy this ain't it lmao. I hope you guys like it and thanks for checking it out <3 Feel free to yell at me in the comments if you didn't like it or if there are errors.

How long has it been?

How many days since the scientist brought you here?

You stare at the bend of your arm and count the needle marks there—some of them fresh others entirely healed leaving faint, purplish marks behind.

How long did it take for stim injection punctures to heal, you wondered. It certainly wasn’t a reliable way to keep track of time even it _were_ possible given how fucked up your memory had gone since the beginning of the ‘experiments’.

 

Your cell was nothing remarkable, the front made of impenetrable glass, the sides, back, and floor were all a blinding shade of white alloy material.

Clinical and unwelcoming as it should be.

 

The only other thing in the room with you was the toilet—you’d learned to sleep with your arms around your legs and your forehead pillowed on the tops of your knees. It was the only way to block out the overhead lights which were never shut off.

Your only food was a watery, flavorless paste which you assumed contained all the necessary nutrients to keep you healthy enough to continue with your trials.

 

Heavy footfalls let you know that he’s coming and you try to make yourself smaller.

 

“I see that you’ve made a full recovery, Twenty-Two. I must commend you—since your arrival here you have proved your efficacy time and time again; truly impressive. A word I don’t use often.” The scientist says this in a way that suggests you came willingly and should be _honored_ because he holds you in such high esteem. What’s more is how he’s never referred to you by name, only your assigned number. You’re not sure if there were twenty-one other test subjects before you but a sinking feeling in your gut tells you that there were and they weren’t as ‘impressive’ as you.

“Fuck you,” you say. He doesn’t acknowledge your insult as he approaches the holo-screen at the front of your cell. It’s linked to the neural implant attached to your temple and relays information about your brain activity and vital signs.

The scientist had explained as much the first day of your captivity when you tried to pull it out and received a shock so intense it left you on the floor, your back arched, and limbs seizing.

_“I wouldn’t tamper with it too much. It’s connected to a wire that has inserted itself directly into your brain. On it’s own it’s harmless, really. The wire itself is comparable to that of a human hair. However, if you continue to activate the device’s security measures, brain death will be swift and I have no use for a brain dead subject.”_

You hadn’t touched the implant ever since.

 

There’s a series of beeps as the scientist briefly assesses your condition. He swipes through various screens until stopping on one that displays an x-ray of your brain with a continuous flow of data read-out next to it. It means nothing to you as you try to focus on any words that might stand out.

The scientist takes a stim gun out of his lab coat and holds it up, “I have something different in mind for today; a new formula that I've been developing for some time now. It’s effects have been wildly unpredictable in previous trials but I am confident this time will yield a desirable outcome.”

 

You shudder to think what exactly a _desirable outcome_ for this man could be.

 

He goes over to the socket in the wall next to the door and inserts the stim, it’s pinkish contents disappearing as the plunger is pushed in, fully emptying it into the dispersal system connected to the vents overhead. With the push of a button you hear the dreaded hiss of chemicals being released into the room with you.

You try to hold your breath for as long as you can but eventually your chest burns, desperate for oxygen, and you have to gasp. Immediately, your nostrils are filled with a strangely floral scent and for once, instead of pain or nausea, you feel _pleasure_ instead. “What..?” You choke out taken aback.

A tingle in your head blossoms outwards through your limbs and explodes through your chest in a crescendo of blissful agony that’s rapidly becoming too much for you to process. A moan slips out, one that’s purely sexual, and you know it’s something you should have been embarrassed or ashamed of but it’s so hard to _think_ and all you can do is ride the waves that carry you under.

 

Your nipples have hardened beneath the paper-like fabric of your gown and you can feel the wetness that makes your thighs slippery as you writhe unable to stop. You feel like you’ll explode if you sit still for even a second.

“Interesting.” The scientist’s low voice brings your attention back to him, his eyes narrowing to slits as he observes your suffering with cold indifference. “It seems s-9223 has triggered an acute reaction in the nucleus accumbens region of the brain.” His gaze slides over to the holo-screen as he scans the data that flows more rapidly than before.

“Hm. I will need to do a blood analysis,” he says, taking out another stim-gun and inserting an empty glass vial for collection into the top. With a whoosh the airlock opens and the scientist steps inside until decontamination finishes. The inner door opens that leads into your cell and you at least still have the mind to crawl backwards as he approaches, cowering against the wall. Again, you’re reminded how much _bigger_ this man is compared to you—he absolutely towers over you. Everything about him exudes his dominance over you and how your very life is now in the mad man’s hands.

And again you’re reminded how much you’ve come to hate the sound of his approaching footsteps.

Heavy and deliberate—the same way he speaks to you.

 

“Your arm,” he says. When he reaches for you—you jerk away trying to escape. You know you’ll regret it later but the effects of the gas make you reckless and you act without thinking. You end up on your back in the struggle and his hand is around your throat, pinning you to the floor and squeezing until blackness edges your vision.

 

You try to ignore the reaction it causes that goes straight to your cunt.

 

“While you may be a valuable asset to me disobedience _will not_ be toler—“ His threat is cut short when in a final desperate act you kick out and up feeling your heel connect with something hard. The hand at your throat is gone and your relief turns to horror when you realize what you’ve just done.

His respirator hangs crookedly; the seal around his nose and mouth broken. The scientist braces himself against the wall as a coughing fit overtakes him. You try to run for the airlock but he is faster and catches you by the hair. “No! Let go of me you fucking bastard! Let go!” You scream and struggle to pull away from his grip until you feel your hair follicles tearing away from your scalp.

“It would seem that you still do not understand your place here, Twenty-Two,” he says, his words a hoarse whisper breathed into your ear. “It is time that you _learn_.”

He drags you through the airlock and into the hall, your screamed obscenities turn to sobbed apologies and promises that ‘it won’t happen again’ and ‘I’ll do whatever you say’.

 

He ignores all of this until you reach what is unmistakably an operating room.

 

The double doors shut with an awful finality once you’re inside and your heart feels as if it might burst with the way it hammers away at the inside of your chest. Sheer terror mixes with your forced arousal threatening to drive you insane. You shriek as he flings you into the operating table, your stomach slamming into the edge in a burst of pain, knocking the wind out of you.

 

He easily overpowers and restrains you within seconds.

 

You beg God or Satan or whoever— _whatever—_ might care to listen to save you, you’re too young to die like _this_.

 

With a snap the overhead lights come on and the scientist is a blur of movement, gathering various utensils from around the room  and placing them into a tray. He then removes his respirator and gear tossing them onto the far counter into a beaker stand, shattering it.

 

When he returns to you—you get a good look at his face for the first time. His pupils are unnaturally dilated so that not a single sliver of green is visible. You can imagine that yours are probably the same.

 

In the struggle you’d actually forgotten that he’s also been exposed to the gas.

 

Which means—

 

 

The scientist takes out a scalpel and your heart stops altogether. You try to plead with him not to kill you but by this point perhaps a quick death would be a mercy. Besides that your tongue refuses to move, glued to the roof of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut when glinting steel descends on your flesh and—

 

—he slices away at your gown until it’s in tatters on the floor.

You don’t even have the dignity of underwear to hide the mess between your legs as piercing black eyes roam your body seeking out the answers. You can _feel_ when he’s staring at your sex, his thin lips pressed into a line. He appears displeased about something.

He moves to the foot of the operating table, “Spread your legs.”

You choke.

 

“I will not tell you again.”

Your muscles tremble, every part of you wanting to resist and keep your thighs clenched shut. Still, you move as slowly as you dare to delay the inevitable until your shame is fully on display.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

 

You open them again when you feel something brush your pubic mound.

 

The scientist is applying shaving cream to your already soaked curls.

 

_What the fuck._

 

“Don't move,” he says taking up a razor from the cart next to you. With precision he works until your skin is smooth and hairless.

 

Just the pressure of the razor is enough to have you panting and shaking--the slightest touch to your most sensitive area is unbearably intense.

 

 A gloved thumb traces your lips afterwards examining the newly uncovered flesh, “As I suspected, I will need to perform some tests to better understand the effects of s-9223.” You don’t miss the edge the scientist’s words carry betraying that his usual composure is absent.

 

“Don’t touch me,” you say because it’s what you _should_ say.

 

 

The scientist actually chuckles, “While you have been an ideal test subject you certainly are not a very good liar, Twenty-Two.” He moves away from you, his touch gone from your puffy nether lips, and you have to hold back the disappointed noise that nearly slips out. “I believe you have the wrong idea, however. I am only interested in the furthering of my research.” He holds up a curved, cylindrical object with a flared head made from stainless steel. “I will begin by using this.”

There’s no mistaking what it is even if you don’t understand why it exists in this man’s laboratory. Have there been others that he’s needed it for? Are you the first? So many questions swirl through your head as the dildo’s cool, blunt tip slides up your folds and brushes over your clit. The sudden contact and the unexpected turn of events overwhelms you and you can’t stop yourself from moaning any more than you can control the way your hips move seeking out more stimulation. The scientist keeps the toy so tantalizingly close yet not close enough to satisfy you.

 

“So responsive, Twenty-Two. So _willing_ to do just about anything right now, are you not?”

 

You’d expected to be tortured—punished for your actions—but certainly not like _this_.

 

You’ve never hated your captor more than in this moment.

 

He prods at you, teasing entry, observing how your breathing goes erratic each time the steel rod nearly dips inside. “Look at me,” he says and you have no choice but to obey. You turn your attention away from his relentless teasing and meet his intense stare. “What is it that you need, Twenty-Two. I want to hear you say it.” What little attention your aching cunt was getting has nearly stopped altogether as he waits for you to answer.

 

Your mouth is so dry from panting that it’s difficult to form words, “Fuck you, you sick fuck.” His head tilts a fraction before his lip curls in amusement—the sight is more terrifying than if the scientist had been outwardly angry with you. “Very well.”

The dildo is suddenly thrust inside you so violently and deeply that it sends an uncomfortable twinge through your cervix. Your scream is cut off so that no sound comes out except for a choked gasp. He continues like this, slowly dragging it back out before slamming it into your quivering walls. The pace is too slow and erratic for you to gain any pleasure from it. He’s keeping you trapped right on the edge in total control of your body.

 

You don’t notice that he’s moved right next to you until he rasps directly into your ear, his harsh breathing stirring the hairs there and causing chills all over your skin. “What do you _need_ , Twenty-Two?” The uneven thrusting continues. You can feel your own juices pooling beneath you and overflowing down your ass. “The outcome is inevitable so why do you deny it? Are you ashamed, perhaps? Is it pride?” His beard tickles you because he’s _so close_ now. “Or is it that my initial assessment of you was incorrect after all. You are not merely an ideal test subject but a _whore_ as well?”

 

The words send a shock through you that’s intensified when you feel the hot wetness of his tongue on the shell of your ear when he licks you there. “Ah—!” You pull and twist at your restraints desperate to be escape even when your efforts are entirely futile.

“Suffer no delusions—you have never had a choice from the beginning. All variables up until this moment led you to me. You were always _mine_.” The toy purrs to life inside you and you _scream_. It’s so intense you feel like you could actually die as the orgasm hits—more powerful than any you’ve experienced before.

 

The dildo is removed before your aftershocks have slowed and now that your head has cleared you notice the scientist’s erection straining against the inside of his suit. An opportunity has presented itself and before you think to do otherwise, you press your foot into his groin, the only part of you that can reach. Although he tries to hide it you can hear the sharp inhale as you rub your foot along his length.

 

He catches you by the ankle, his long fingers easily wrapping all the way around, but doesn’t take your foot away from his cock. “What are you doing?” His eyes narrow in the way that they do when he’s trying to assess you. You run your tongue over your lips to wet them, suddenly very nervous. “I-I wanted to touch you, too. I thought maybe as a way to apologize.” You falter, hearing how weak you sound to your own ears. How unconvincing you must seem to the scientist who is able to read all of your weaknesses so easily. You try moving again—harder than before. It earns you a low rumble of approval despite his hand not leaving your ankle. He begins to guide your movements, instead, and your heart does a little victory flip that things are going as you’d hoped.

 

You rattle your restraints giving him your best needy look which, to be honest, isn’t terribly fucking difficult right then. It still feels as if you could burst into flames from the inside out. “Please let me touch you.” You consider biting your lip but that would be overdoing it. The scientist is suspicious of your change in attitude but it appears he’s at his limit of self-control.

 

Within moments your hands are freed and you waste no time staying true to your word.

 

If it meant your freedom you would do whatever it took to get it even if it meant sucking the cock of the man you hated.

 

His arms remain at his sides making no move to help you as you struggle with trembling fingers to open the front of his suit. When his cock pops out in front of your face you have to pause for a moment to appreciate it’s size.

 

_With an arrogant attitude like that is it any wonder this guy has a huge rod to go along with it?_

 

You give a tentative lick to the tip uncertain as to whether you can fit it into your mouth without your teeth hurting him. That was certainly something you didn’t need right now—another reason to piss the scientist off. Carefully, you take him inside, your jaw straining with the effort and you hollow out your cheeks around him sucking as hard as you can.

 

You can’t take him very deep as your own anatomy won’t allow it so you work the rest of his shaft with your hand using your spit as lube. You build a steady rhythm bobbing your head and hand together until you can hear nothing but the lewd wet noises of your own mouth. You stop long enough to risk a glance up at his expression and your stomach clenches.

 

You were so distracted by the blow job you hadn’t noticed the change in the scientist’s demeanor. Not an ounce of his composure remains intact, undone by your own foolish hopes of escape. You’ve unleashed something you weren’t ready for—crossed some invisible line that you shouldn’t have.

 

The scientist’s hands twitch at his sides, barely restrained, and his unblinking stare is molten black heat. It promises unimaginable things and you feel as if you’ll be devoured if you don’t get away _right now_.

 

In an instant you’re off your knees and running.

 

He reaches for you and you throw back an elbow into his face with a cry.

 

You keep running.

 

And running.

 

Until you have no idea where you are, all of the hallways in the laboratory look the same and there are no signs to lead the way. “Fuck,” you say, keeping your voice low. You’re disgusted with how wet you’d made yourself sucking your captor’s cock—your juices have trickled down the inside of your leg. You wished there was a way for you to clean yourself.

As it was you were still naked and without a weapon.

Entirely helpless.

 

 _“Twenty-Two.”_ His voice comes from somewhere nearby, startling you.

 

Already he’s caught up to you.

 

Moments later you can hear his approach.

 

Heavy and deliberate.

 

The unhurried footsteps of a predator whose prey has been cornered.

 

Panicked, you run to every door you’d passed earlier trying each one until at last one of them opens. With a grateful sob you run inside hiding yourself behind a large tank filled with God-knows-what. Even now, afraid for your life, your cunt throbs in interest. Maybe whatever that shit was you were exposed to had driven you insane after all. Your thoughts hardly seem like your own any longer.

 

Surely the depraved things you’re imagining the scientist doing to you are a side effect of the gas.

 

The door hisses open and you tremble so violently that your teeth chatter together. Light slices through the darkness of the room, his shadow blocking it out as he steps into the doorway. “Do you think me a fool, perhaps? That I hadn’t anticipated your pathetic attempt at escape?” You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence your breathing, listening for his approach. “But then why let you go if I expected you to run?”

 

Your heart thuds so loudly accompanied by the roaring of blood in your ears it’s nearly impossible for you to focus on anything else. The scientist’s shadow is gone from the doorway and you decide to risk it—you have nothing left to lose at this point—and move as fast but as silently as you can, praying that he’s moved deeper into the room with you so you can make it around unnoticed.

 

For a moment you think you’ve actually managed to evade him and your heart soars only to come crashing back down when a painful slap connects with the side of your face. Dazed, you fall to your hands and knees before he’s dragging you up by the hair, pulling you back into him, his fingers around your throat. The height difference is so drastic in this position that your feet aren’t touching the floor. “Do you understand now? It is because I _allowed_ it.”  His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your throat and you feel close to fainting.

 

His hot cock slides against your ass, wet from spit and precum, and the hand at your throat dips down between your folds. One long finger slides inside you, then another, circling your walls until he’s found your most sensitive spot. Just his fingers are thick enough to fill you nearly to satisfaction and a tortured sigh leaks out as he fucks you on them.

 

Without warning he reverses your position, pushing you up against the wall so that your legs are around his waist, and you’re forced to grab at his suit to balance yourself.

 

A single strand of his otherwise undisturbed hair has fallen over one eye and the gash on his nose left by your elbow bleeds sluggishly down his face. When it reaches his upper lip his tongue slips out to catch it and he seems to enjoy the taste of his own blood, his eyes going briefly unfocused. “That’s what I wanted to see, Twenty-Two. The moment the subject realizes there is no salvation, that moment of utter _despair_.” He re-positions himself beneath you, lining up his cock with your entrance. “Truly exhilarating no matter how many times I have witnessed it.”

 

The scientist brutally penetrates you, your walls clenching as they stretch to accommodate his girth, until he bottoms out against your cervix. Your head falls back against the wall as you struggle to catch your breath trying to relax around him. He attacks your bared throat with his teeth and tongue, biting and sucking everywhere with all the ferocity of a wild animal trying to devour you. It doesn’t stop there as he moves down to your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it, a growl low in his throat.

 

How utterly debauched you must look, impaled on the scientist’s cock, his hands supporting your ass while he leaves hickeys on every inch of skin that he can reach.

 

How utterly depraved you’ve become.

 

“Ohhh, _Jesus. Fuuuck_ ,” you say as he starts to move inside you, effortlessly lifting you up and down in time with his thrusts, your back sliding against the wall’s cool surface. Even that is pleasurable against the feverish heat of your skin and you allow yourself to surrender to the sensations.

 

 

By the time you’ve reached your third or fourth orgasm you’ve gone completely limp in his arms, sagging against him with no strength left in your arms. ‘ _Fuck drunk_ ’ you think is the term for what you’re experiencing although you’re quite certain very few people have ever experienced it like you are.

 

The scientist’s movements are becoming more and more erratic and he lets out a loud moan before coming inside you. It fills you to overflowing, running down the scientist’s balls in a mixture of your combined fluids, turning his final thrusts audibly wet and sloppy.

 

He stills inside you both of you totally spent and panting hard.

 

 

 

“Alex,” he says.

 

You blink in confusion, “What..?”

 

“My name is Alex. For future reference.”

 

_Future reference._

 

You ponder this information, your consciousness ebbing away.

 

At last you allow yourself to pass out.

 

_Fuck you, Alex._

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
